


Graham's Grand Day Out

by SinisterScribe



Series: Love at First Bite [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Explosions, F/M, Floating seagulls, Grahams not good very bad day, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nesting is an INSTINCT okay?, being dead creates a lot of inconveniences, he just wanted to go to the store, naps, nut water is for hipsters anyway, snuggles, sword fight, there goes another shirt, warnings for mental imagery of a wet Graham, why does anyone put up with Emma anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 20:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterScribe/pseuds/SinisterScribe
Summary: Graham had one simple job...nothing is ever that easy in Storybrooke....particularly when you're Graham.





	Graham's Grand Day Out

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 in my latest series. 
> 
> This is a bit cracky but I had fun and there's some shippy stuff if you squint.
> 
> Sorry if mistakes. I wrote in one and unbeta'd.

**Graham’s Grand Day Out**

**_Noon…_ **

 

Graham’s eyes snapped open and he sat up all in one move. Instantly awake in the way he now could be without effort. He inhaled deeply, scenting the cellar and the house above for any changes he should be aware of. He scrubbed his hands over his face and scruffed his fingers through his newly growing beard and up into his hair to comb it back a little. It sprang stubbornly up again, not so much longer as more voluminous.

He hurled himself from bed.

“I’m going to make some eggs. You want some?” Graham found a pair of shorts to tug on and decided that was dressed enough. “Bacon. Bacon too, I think. Sounds good.”

Graham bounded for the stairs and was all the way up into the kitchen before he realised he’d heard nothing in response. Not a polite decline for eggs nor bacon. Not a low growl as she awoke or a sharp inhale. Not even her moving.

“Regina?” Graham padded back to the door leading down into the cellar and peered into the cool dimness below.

Nothing.

“Regina? Are you still hungry?” Graham padded a few steps down, a frown beginning to tug at his brow.

Silence.

Graham slunk down the rest of the steps to the cellar floor and prowled closer to the bed. He frowned, trying to see where she was. She couldn’t have moved. They were both entirely out when they went into that dawn induced slumber that hit them like a truck at sunrise.

Graham crawled up onto the bed and began patting down the furs and blankets until he felt something solid that might have been a leg. Digging down beneath the various layers, he unearthed what was indeed a knee. Peeling back more furs, he excavated her from the nest she had burrowed herself into at some point.

She wasn’t moving.

He stilled at the hot and sour squeeze of… _something_ that seized his chest when she lay unresponsive at his hands. He loosened his grip when he realised his knuckles had whitened with their hold on her. He frowned, studying her.

She was warm, which was a good sign. They were cool when they were comatose but warmed when they woke. She was breathing, he could see that, but her eyes were closed and her head tucked into her arm. She was curled onto her side and appeared to be…asleep?

“Hey, wake up.” He gave her knee a little shake.

Regina slept on.

“Regina? Can ye hear me?” He patted her sharply on her thigh. Certainly hard enough for her to notice.

Nothing.

Graham pondered it a moment more and picked up the arm that she wasn’t sleeping on. His fangs unsheathed and he laid them over the pulse on her wrist.

Regina opened one sleepy eye, looking straight at him.

“Hmm?”

She barely sounded conscious.

“What’s wrong with ye?”

Regina inhaled deeply, blinking muzzily and lifting her free hand to rub at her eyes. She frowned a little and curled in deeper on herself.

“Regina?” He shook her arm again and she rallied a little.

“You hungry?” Her voice was rough. Her fangs sheathed. Even her silvery pupils seemed less reflective.

Still, she turned her arm so that he might bite her more easily if he was of a mind to. Graham gently pushed her arm away from his mouth but held onto it still, measuring her pulse there. It was a little fast for what was normal for them when they were conscious. 

“For eggs and bacon. What’s wrong with ye?”

“Tired.” Regina curled into a tighter ball and her fingers curled around the edge of a fur, trying to tug it over her once more. “Sore.”

“Sore how?” Graham ruthlessly pushed the fur away. He needed her awake a while longer.

“Don’t know.” She gave a cavernous yawn, her fangs flashing briefly with the flex and then curled up again. “Getting used to processing….fuel maybe.” Her eyes were closed again. She rubbed low on her belly, frowning a little, her discomfort plain.

Graham sat back and didn’t know what to do with himself. He frowned, wondering why he was concerned and then realised that she was literally necessary to keep him alive. Of course he’d be concerned about keeping his food supply fresh…right?

“You were fine yesterday.” He noted the tone of accusation in his own voice and scowled at his own melodrama.

She shifted a shoulder in what might have been a minute shrug.

“Do you need anything?” He tried again.

Regina did nothing, lying there breathing steadily with her eyes closed peacefully. He began to think that she had fallen asleep once more. Actually asleep. He began to pull the covers back over her but stilled when she spoke.

“Coconut water.”

“Coco-what now?”

“Coconut water.” She managed to prise an eyelid open again. “Helps with blood…stuff.”

Her eye closed once more and she went slack limbed. Asleep once more.

Graham huffed out a growl and began to pile her under the furs once more. He succinctly ignored that he was tucking in an Evil Queen vampire because he’d quite honestly done stranger things and decided since coming back from the dead that his unlife was too short to be surprised. He left her space to let some air in since she was actually breathing more than once every five minutes and then went to find the damn coconut water.

He padded up the stairs again, somehow less enthused about eggs and bacon now, and rummaged in the refrigerator for something that might be coconut water.

Nothing.

He growled again and then decided there was nothing for it.

He was going to the store.

 

**_The Vault…_ **

 

Graham poked his head into the Mills Mausoleum and stretched his senses taut. This was going to be interesting.

He could definitely smell Cora in here.

Well, he could smell someone that wasn’t Regina. He took that to mean that it had to be Cora. She was definitely female, older than Regina and reeked of magic. There was also something else. Something familiar that he couldn’t name. Something that raised hackles he didn’t have and made his fingers curl for claws that hadn’t fully come in yet.

He had intended to go to the store. He really had.

But then, you know, reality had occurred to him.

People were stupid. The people gathered together in this cursed town in particular couldn’t be any dimmer if they were dark. So he had elected to proactively avoid trouble since the great unwashed were hardly likely to distinguish being affiliated with Regina and being allied with her.

Come to think of it, considering that he was staying in her house and sleeping in her bed and literally living off of her, Graham was hard pressed to draw the line in the difference himself so he had decided not to think about it. His life was just easier if he went about doing things rather than troubling himself with _feelings_. He had been without them for the majority of his life and now that they were back he had decided they were highly overrated and were best ignored.

To Graham, avoiding trouble was best done by looking too dangerous. If one was too dangerous then folks tended not to get bright ideas and start trouble. His reputation as Huntsman was dangerous enough. He had been a cold blooded killer of some alarming and infamous skill back in the Enchanted Forest but idiots had short memories and what they would most remember was the biddable Sheriff Humbert (he still hadn’t forgiven Regina for that _name_ ).

Ergo, best to look like the Huntsman.

He had chosen his outfit accordingly.

He wore the black leather duster that Regina had appropriated for his resurrection, a black tee shirt and the most comfortable jeans he had. They were worn and easier to move in. They weren’t dark but he’d decided to go with mobility over aesthetic in that regard.

Now all he needed was his weapons.

Graham prowled over to Henry Senior’s coffin and considered how to shift it. This must be the entryway to the vault. It had to be.

He reached out with one hand and lifted the top of the marble casket. He wrinkled his nose when he found it empty and let the stone thump back down with a rasping clunk. Graham pursed his lips and peered around the mausoleum.

He supposed it should feel strange to be back here. Near the place where Regina had murdered him even if he hadn’t been precisely present for it.

All he felt was…a draft.

Graham looked down. A draft over his ankles.

Ah-hah.

Graham prowled around the coffin, set his hands to it and pushed.

It slid over more easily than he had anticipated with his vampiric strength and he nearly fell headlong down the damn hole that was under the casket. Blue light shimmered up from the depths and Graham staggered down onto the steps leading down into the vault proper.

He waited, expecting some sort of magical trap. He found it hard to believe that this whole place was undefended.

Nothing happened.

“Well…now or never.” Graham shrugged and started cautiously down the steps.

He made it to the bottom unmolested and decided he might as well carry on.

The vault was considerably larger than he had believed it would be. The corridors twisted on and on, branching off again and again and it was only his internal compass that kept him orientated at all. He padded this way and that, investigating different chambers (slamming some doors as quickly as he had opened them in certain cases) and finally -finally- found the damn armoury.

“Ah, my old friends.” Graham grinned as he stepped into the familiar smell of iron, oil and leather. He inhaled deeply, surprised at how he had missed this place to his very core.

Graham investigated what was on offer and was somehow not surprised to find his sword prominently displayed and -easing it from its sheathe a little- recently cleaned.

Graham frowned at that.

He kept finding them. Evidence that led to a story that made no sense.

Regina had kept his clothes. She had tidied his house. She had preserved his corpse with what meagre magic she’d had left to her at the time, magic that she could ill afford to waste on a cadaver. She had buried him with his favoured knife. She had cried over him. He was _certain_ she had. She had brought him back. Not turned another but brought him back.

Now he found that she had kept his sword well oiled and in the same condition he would have preferred it to be.

He had no idea what any of it meant.

Graham slung the sword belt around his hips under his leather jacket and cinched it in place. He checked the fit of it and rattled it comfortably into place. He swept his duster back so that he would more easily draw the blade if he needed to.  

Then he heard it.

Graham’s head snapped up and he spun around on his heels. Fully expecting to see someone behind him.

There was no one there.

Graham’s sword all but leapt into his hand and his fangs unsheathed on a low hiss. Just because he couldn’t _see_ someone didn’t mean they weren’t there. Cora was here somewhere.

 _Someone_ was here. He could hear their heart.

With a low growl, Graham stepped back out into the corridor. His eyes narrowed and his head tilting this way and that, searching for the sound…that way.

Graham slunk down the corridor, his ears keen for the sound of retreating footsteps but he heard none.

He snarled in confusion. It could be the magic in the vault, interfering with even his heightened senses but…he could hear that heart perfectly.

There!

Graham all but flew through a doorway and slithered to a halt when he found himself…oh.

The heart room.

Graham’s muscles locked into rigidity, his teeth bared and his claws unsheathed fully for the first time. Turned out they were fully grown in.

He panted for a moment, eyes wild and tense, darting to every corner of the otherwise empty room. He certainly had bad memories associated with THIS place. The wall of boxes glittering gold and pulsing with magic triggered his fight of flight instincts big time. Every one of those boxes was filled with an enchanted heart. He should be overwhelmed by their combined thunder.  

Still, he could hear the thudding pulse of a _single_ heart.

Not his. It couldn’t be _his_. For a start, he had a new damn one in his chest which had apparently grown back. Secondly, his heart was probably making a corner of the vault dusty somewhere. Regina might clean swords, but she didn’t seem to spend a lot of time sweeping down here.

Graham swept forward, wanting to be gone from whatever had led him here to this haunted room. His clawed hand waved slowly over the front of the boxes, hesitant to even touch them and he snatched one open at seeming random. He growled when he saw the heart inside.

Bright, throbbing, alive.

Graham snarled and snatched it up. He stuffed it into his pocket, intent on quizzing Regina about it later, and spun away from the room entirely. If at all possible, determined never to return.

He swept out into the corridor and gave a violent shudder. He shoved his sword back into its sheathe and figured out how to retract his damn claws. It took him an embarrassingly long time. Yet another thing he’d have to quiz Regina about.

Unsettled and with the increasing need to bite someone to make himself feel better, Graham gave one last low growl and fled the vault.

He still had to get to the fucking store.

 

**_The Docks…_ **

 

Emma shifted uncomfortably on her spot behind the crates and leaned up to peer around her blind. She had taken a couple of hours to set this up. A good vantage point to get a decent overview of the majority of the piers spread out into the calm waters of the Storybrooke bay.

Graham and Regina had both been quite adamant that Hook would be here. Regina had –of course- not seen fit to _take them_ to the _Jolly Roger_ and prove herself right so it was left to Emma to figure it out herself.

Regina had smirked as she had told her it would build character.

Emma could kind of understand why Regina was in no hurry for them to get to the _Roger_ and the possible occupants therein.

Henry was convinced that Archie was still alive. So long as that was the case then it meant in his mind that Regina was innocent. If she was innocent then he could forgive her guilt free. She wouldn’t have reverted to type and betrayed him.

Emma’s jaw clenched.

If Regina was lying _again_ Emma was going to flip her fucking shit.

Emma shifted and glanced through the tarp again. She had managed to construct a rudimentary blind which meant she could watch the docks without being seen. If there was a renaissance pirate down there with a pronounced ableism complex, then she’d see him before he saw her.

That did not, however, preclude _her_ from being snuck up on.

“The fuck are ye doin’?”

“Jeez- -!” Emma cut herself off violently and twisted to see the vampire looming over her.

Graham looked down at her, the definition of unimpressed, and raised an eyebrow. Emma glared at him and tried to ignore how he looked like a GQ model that had gotten lost.

He’d been well dressed as Sheriff, in a dorky, hipsterish, sort of way. As Regina’s…whatever, he was downright sinful.

He wore that black leather duster again, a black tee shirt that clung to him like a second skin, jeans so worn they were nearly white -making Emma fear for seam structural integrity and therefore public decency laws- and a battered pair of ankle boots.

A _huge_ sword was sheathed at one hip. His coat thrown back to reveal the hilt and leave it plainly in view.

“Did you walk down Main Street like that?” Emma nodded to the sword.

“I don’t have a ‘carry concealed’ permit.” Graham shrugged and leaned over a little to look around her and at the tarp that hid her from view. “Again, the fuck are ye doin’?”

Graham was a little cross. Emma didn’t know it, but he had gotten all the way to the damn store and found the stupid coconut water and then tried to pay for it, not realising that being dead might put something of a crimp in his finances. That and he’d had to put up with the _gawping_.

He swore, if one more person asked if he was dead, he was committing murder to give a practical demonstration as to what death actually fucking looked like.

He’d been on his way back to the manor to rifle through Regina’s purse like some sort of common thief, a concept that left a bad taste in his mouth, to pay for the fucking nut water. So when he’d been taking the scenic route to avoid other pedestrians and spotted Emma, he’d thought it time to make someone else as miserable as he was.

He’d discovered that he both had a taste and a flair for Swan baiting.

She did make it so easy after all.   

“I’m waiting.” Emma waved at her thermos of coffee and bundle of sandwiches as if it were obvious.

“For?”

“Hook to come out.” Emma hunched her shoulders in a shrug. “If what you guys have been saying is true, he should come off his magical invisible ship at some point. I want to see him when he does it so I can see where it is.”

Graham sniffed, folding his arms over his chest and watched her.

“What?”

“So…SO many things.” Graham shook his head and looked up at the grey sky. “I can’t believe they voted you in to replace me.”

“I guess the good folks of our little hamlet no longer wanted someone who was literally in bed with the Mayor’s office.”

Graham lifted a single finger and Emma muscled down a flinch when a steely claw sprang from under his fingernail. She stared at the shining talon and tried not to audibly swallow.

Graham examined his weaponry and then relaxed, sheathing the claw again, his point more than made. He heaved an affected sigh and tried again.

Everybody was so much _hard work_.

“You could have asked.”

“You know where it is?!” Emma stared at him.

She had been out here for _hours_. Her ass was well past numb and she really kinda needed to pee. All of that and it turned out that Team-fucking-Dolce and Gaffanga had known where the damn ship was the whole time!

“Well, not exactly, but I can certainly draw Hook out.” Graham grinned wolfishly, his pupils glinting silvery. “Ye got yer gun?”

“Yeah.” Emma nodded warily.

“I’m also going to start at the only empty spot on the dock.” Graham leaned over and pointed to a stretch of water that was devoid of boat. “Ye know, the bit with the bizarrely floating seagull above it.”

Graham’s finger ticked up and Emma nearly growled when she noticed a seagull that seemed to be –well- defying the laws of physics as she knew them.

Emma cleared her throat and sucked on her teeth for a moment. Well, this was embarrassing.

“Don’t you worry yerself.” Graham all but patted her on the head. “I’ll go and find out if the cricket is alive. If he is I may even bring him back that way.”

Emma twisted to glare at him.

“Call yer father. We’ll need the extra firepower.” Graham had dropped forward to rest his palms on his knees and peer at the empty spot where they expected the ship to be.

“I beat Hook in a fight, you saying you can’t handle him?” Emma asked archly. Her impression of Hook had been sneaky and cunning but there was something a bit too boyband reject-y about him to be taken seriously.

“Contrary to whatever performance of ineptitude he put on for you, that man has survived three centuries in a jungle hell fighting against immortal demigods and demons, he only EVER pretends to be pretty and ineffectual when he wants to bed a woman. You ‘won’ because he was fixated on what lies between yer nethers, any thoughts you have otherwise are fucking moronic at best.”

Emma blinked when Graham slowly turned his head to look at her, she could see the green mirror of his pupils glinting at her. Her jaw clenched and she knew she couldn’t keep letting this shit slide.

“Still jealous?”

Graham smirked slowly. Human claws were all but non-existent but it was pleasing that she was trying to flex them. Bless.

“Did ye think I ripped his arm off because he was in _Regina’s_ bed?” Graham chuckled low and sinful, his tongue tracing over his teeth. He straightened up. “I did warn him that I liked it rough.”

Emma’s brows rose and she blinked a couple of times. She had not…her eyes narrowed at Graham’s smirk.

Was he fucking with her?

“Call your father, he might be spineless but at least he’s competent with a sword.” Graham turned away and headed for the edge of the roof. “Ta-ta.”

Emma squeaked and lunged when Graham stepped up onto the raised edge of the roof and then straight off the other side. She scrambled to the wall and peered down over the edge, dreading what she might see.

An explosive breath rushed from her when she saw Graham, fifty feet straight down on the ground, entirely unharmed, straightening the lapels of his coat. He ruffled his hair just so, rolled his shoulders and then strode off towards the docks.

Emma sighed, somehow glad that he hadn’t reduced himself to a pancake consistency and reluctantly pulled her cell phone out. She had been adamant that morning that she didn’t need help and her father could keep his distance and do paperwork at the office. She was more than a little annoyed that Graham had forced her into retracting her strident protestations that she could manage just fine by herself.

Well, she had said all that before the vampire had turned up so she supposed she was allowed to change her mind.

Emma watched Graham prowl towards the invisible ship.

Her life was a fucking sit-com.

A _badly written_ one.

 

**_On the Docks…_ **

 

Graham strolled along the warped boards beneath his boots and hummed low in his throat. He pulled a red apple from his pocket and buffed it against the material of his tee shirt. He was still learning what he could and could not eat without being violently ill. Luckily, Regina had done much of that experimentation before bringing him back to the land of the living and instructed him on many of the foods to avoid.

One of the first things she had attempted had been her apples (naturally) and he’d learned they were safe to eat.

The taste had never been his favourite but there was something about the way it felt to bite into the fruit…he imagined peaches would be phenomenal. He was certainly trying peaches next.

If he couldn’t bite Regina every day then he would have to find a substitute because he was fast becoming addicted to her and it was a state of affairs he would much prefer to avoid.

The notion of using fruit to replace her was ludicrous but he had few options. His heart was his own once more and he wasn’t about to carelessly give it up again without a fight.

Graham crunched on his apple, eating it quickly as he ambled towards where the _Roger_ was berthed. He pondered briefly how to handle this as he tossed the naked core of the apple into the water. He sucked the juice from his lips and cleaned his fingers with thoughtful dabs of his tongue.

Ah, fuck it.

“HOOK!” Graham’s new strength lent an effortless power to his voice.

The seagull that had been perched upon the invisible rigging of the _Roger_ was startled into flight at the bark of sound and winged away with angry cries.

The pirate himself appeared a moment later.

“What the shite, man?” Hook looked up and down the docks, searching for Regina no doubt because the Huntsman had ever been the harbinger to her doom. “What do you mean by all the screaming?”

“Didn’t know where the gangplank was.” Graham shrugged a shoulder and ambled closer.

He felt the frisson of magic wash over him as he stepped beneath the glamour that cloaked the ship from sight. He looked up at the masts and furled sails of the _Jolly Roger_ , fastest ship to sail any seas, and then let his gaze drop back down to her captain.

Hook had changed little over the years. Still skinny and pale and wearing too much damn kohl under his eyes. He protested that it protected against the glare of the sun against the water but Graham knew differently. He still wore far too much jewellery and –as always- looked displeased to see Graham.

Understandable, he’d ripped the man’s arm off with nothing more than his wolf taught strength. Now that he was a vampire…well. Hook was lucky that Graham was under strict instruction not to go eating any pirates.

Regina insisted it was because he might be useful later and that they had no idea where the grubby little bit of salted jerky had been.

“Permission to come aboard?” Graham drawled, dripping with sarcasm.

This was the crux of it. If Hook didn’t invite Graham, he had no idea if he could actually get aboard. The ship might not be a house but she was certainly a home and had been to Hook for the past three hundred years.

Snow’s apartment with its motley little family and having belonged to the lot of them for five minutes had been powerful enough to blast Graham clean across the hallway and into a wall. If Graham tried to board the _Roger_ without permission, he honestly didn’t know what might happen but he suspected it might involve his innards becoming outtards.

It was rather ludicrous that he was a super predator the likes of which had made stories so horrifying that they had crossed dimensions but a _door_ could stop him cold.

Hook glared at Graham. He was evidently deciding if it was worth the trouble to refuse him.

Considering he might have to answer to Regina and then by extension Cora if he refused…no.

“Come in if you’re coming then.” Hook retreated back up the gangplank and missed the savage grin that Graham let slip over his mouth as soon as the man’s back was turned.

He prowled up the gangplank and onto the ship. He felt the threshold part for him and was glad that he’d managed to get an invitation. The ship was _old_. Old and powerful. Protective of her captain no doubt.

Well, Graham had no real intent of hurting Hook. Not yet anyway.

“So, the missus sent you on her errand then?” Hook jerked his head below decks and Graham followed as docilely as he knew how. Which wasn’t very but it was the thought that counted.

“I’m to check on the cargo.” Graham lied effortlessly and on the spot. A skill he had learned decades ago and honed to perfection.

Just as well really. This was becoming an increasingly stupid idea.

Alright, so he probably hadn’t thought this through as much as he should have. He had no guarantee that Hook was here _alone_. Cora could be in the captain’s cabin for all Graham knew and if she was then he was probably in a lot of trouble. There could be a dozen crewmen milling around below decks and all of them armed with stakes (unlikely but they could have brooms or such that could be repurposed easily).

All of that and he didn’t actually _know_ that Archie was still alive. He didn’t know that Hook was holding him here. He knew nothing about what was in the hold of the _Jolly Roger_ and it might well end up getting him killed.

Graham smirked.

How _exciting_.

 After all, they had already brought a _giant_ with them and Graham had never fought a giant before. What else had they brought with them from the Enchanted Forest or whichever realms they had stopped by in order to get to Storybrooke?

Manticores? Ogres? Dragons? Who knew?

This ship could be a smorgasbord of entertainment for Graham. He might well never be bored again.

Because it WAS boring.

Being alive (or something like it) was great. He was enjoying his new diet immensely and the strength and speed were fun to learn how to handle but Storybrooke was so BORING.

Aside from the imminent threat of Cora, there wasn’t all that much going on. He’d missed all the excitement with breaking curses and mobs and rampaging wraiths. He’d missed the giant and the fallout of that. He hadn’t even had the chance to see if he was immune to the Dark One’s magic yet.

Graham was a warrior, through and through. He had spent most of his life fighting one war or another and now he found himself in _peacetime_ and it was abhorrent.

So at the very least, he was hoping for some kind of dragon.

“He’s been bitching about something called the Geneva Convents.” Hook turned back to Graham with a shrug. “What nuns have to do with anything, I have no idea. Complains about everything. Don’t suppose you’re here to take him off my hands?”

Oh, that sounded like Archie. No dragons? How disappointing.

“Hand.” Graham corrected automatically, stifling his regretful sigh, and smiled when Hook glared at him. “And yes.”

Hook stilled with a frown.

“Spotted Swan on the way over. She’s watching the docks. Regina wants our precious little prisoner to be shifted lest somebody find him.” That was tenuous. Hook might well know that Regina had no inclination that Archie was still alive.

He might be more involved in Cora’s plan than they suspected (though unlikely, Cora was a snake of the lowest order). He might think it of paramount importance that Regina never find out that Archie was still alive.

“And you’re to move him in broad daylight?” Hook spoke archly.

“We both know I’m more than capable of getting off this ship without anybody noticing.” Graham bared his teeth in a savage facsimile of a smile.

Hook grunted, remembering thirty or so years ago and the time Graham had snuck onboard and off again with none of the crew being any the wiser.

Regina had not instructed that Graham not be seen, but he had been bored and he hadn’t liked pirates (still didn’t). Thumbing his nose at them had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“I have to confess, I thought you…gone.” Hook raked Graham with a glance. “You were missing from her majesty’s shadow. It’s not like you.”

“I go where I please.” Graham lifted a shoulder in a shrug, following Hook further into the depths of the ship.

They wound deeper and deeper into the belly of the _Jolly Roger_ and Graham noted the improvements that had been made here and there. Electric lights had been strung through the ship, he could hear the hum of a generator somewhere nearby. Litter trays were tucked here and there for the ship’s cats and appeared to be in use though the felines themselves were nowhere to be seen.

“I didn’t think her majesty was so up for letting you off the leash.” Hook snarked in return.

“A feeling I imagine you’re growing familiar with.” Graham grinned right back. “How long did you have to hold onto Cora for? The whole twenty eight years? Urgh.” Graham gave an exaggerated shudder. “Rather you than me.”

Hook shot him a dark look and kicked open the door to the cargo hold. Interesting that they weren’t holding him in the brig but whatever. Hook ducked into the hold and Graham stooped down to follow after him.

“ _Graham?!”_

Ah, so it was Archie.

“Doctor Hopper.” Graham smiled tightly and nodded his head in greeting. His smirk slipped when Archie said _precisely_ the wrong thing.

“But you’re DEAD!”

Hook stiffened and whirled to face Graham. The vampire huffed an annoyed breath.

“I do wish you hadn’t said that.” Graham rolled his eyes to look at Archie.

Then he was ducking steel.

 

**_Meanwhile, Outside…_ **

 

 “I can’t believe this.” Emma scuffed her toe against the warped boards of the dock and stuffed her hands in her pocket.

“You can’t believe that a creature with preternatural senses can pick up on magic that you can’t? You can’t believe a hunter that can smell blood like a shark can track down a single pirate that probably hasn’t seen a shower in about thirty years?” David propped his elbow against the hood of his truck and hitched a thumb over the hilt of his sword. “Or you can’t believe he saw a _floating seagull_ that you didn’t notice?”

“Can we get off the seagull?” Emma raised an eyebrow. “The guy’s a freaking tiger. Why is nobody else freaking out?!”

“Graham’s always been dangerous.” David shrugged and sniffed. He looked out over the ocean through the bare spot where they now knew the _Jolly Roger_ had been berthed. “Think…Batman meets Wolverine.”

“He’s always had claws?” Emma’s voice was a little hoarse as she spun on her heel to stare at her father.

“No, he always managed just fine without.” Charming rubbed at his chin and mulled it over. “Saw him kill a man with his thumb once. Right through his eye. Popped like a roasted tomato.” David examined his own thumb and then shook it off with an exaggerated shudder. “Glad he’s always been on our side.”

“Excuse you?!” Emma was incredulous. “You gotta be kidding me? He’s totally on Team Evil”

“We’re not calling it that.” David wrinkled his nose.

“IT FITS!”

“It’s stupid.” David waved it off and pushed off the truck, trying to soothe his daughter and technically his boss he supposed. “Look, Graham has always been a bit…other. Raised by wolves, bite first, ask questions maybe never.”

“So you’re trying to comfort me by telling me that he as _always_ been a psychopath?” Emma raised her eyebrows, her arms going slack at her sides. She could not believe this.

“You’re living in a town where magic triggered PTSD is the _norm,_ ” David clapped both hands down on Emma’s shoulders and raised his eyebrows, “I’m telling you that _Graham_ is pretty damn stable compared to the rest of us.”

“Guy eats people.” Emma gave an exaggerated shrug. “Like, literally.”

“AND,” David continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “he levels Regina out.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Emma knew he had to be. If this was Regina _levelled_ then she was in serious shit.

“Yeah, I mean we kidnapped him that one time, planning to ransom him back, she went through six villages before we could even get the demands to her.” David lifted his hands away and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Thank all the gods he managed to escape using that thimble.”

“Thimble.”

“Best not ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to.” David shook his head.

Emma was going to ask, because she had a kind of a masochistic streak that way, but then the ship was suddenly _there_.

Emma’s legs folded beneath her and she had no idea why until she registered David’s hand on the back of her neck. He’d accordianed her straight down like she had no core strength _at all_. If that hadn’t been enough of a blow to her confidence, having her whole self hurled into the back of the truck in a continuation of that scruffing motion certainly put a dent in her strong independent female schtick.

Emma scrambled upright in the flatbed of the truck in time to see David drawing his sword in the same instant as he hurled himself straight at the three masted ship that was suddenly parked right in front of them.

The ship that was _on fire_.

Emma yanked herself out of the trunk, a little wobbly from having been tossed in there like a sack of potatoes in the first place, but determined to shake it off. She drew her gun, clasped it in both hands, elbows close to her body and started towards the carnage.

How had this come to be her life? How had it come to pass that she now routinely flung herself headlong towards giants, ogres and immortal pirates oh-my?

Well, it hardly mattered why because she was up the gangplank and had apparently walked into hell.

Fire engulfed the entire ship, the lacquered wood licking with flames in all directions. Black smoke billowed up into the grey sky and the ringing sound of steel smashing into steel rang out, echoing eerily amongst the rigging.

David lurched out of the smoke, lopsided and wrong looking.

Emma snatched her gun sight away from him and hissed out a breath through her teeth.

“Take him!” David thrust the lump he was carrying at Emma, it was Archie. “I have to help.”

Emma was about to ask which one but she really should have known better.

Hook and Graham exploded out of the smoke in a sweep of leather dusters and a sparking clash of naked blades.

Graham’s eyes _burned_. His pupils were phosphorous pinpricks in the face of the leaping flames. His fangs fully extended like ivory knives in his mouth. His claws unsheathed and Emma realised only then that he was fighting Hook’s -well- hook and sword with _those_. Bare handed.

He was beating back the unstoppable force of Hook’s three centuries of lethal experience with nothing more than a wicked manicure.

Emma realised then what everyone had been talking about. Hook _hadn’t_ been trying to kill her. He had evidently had no interest in even challenging her when they had fought in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma had been told that Hook was long lived but otherwise about as magical as a brick. He didn’t have super speed or extra senses or magic but _damn_ he was fast. Fast, cruel and intent. His eyes were a curdled blood red in the light of the flames and his sword could well have been lightning for all the weight he seemed to feel from the steel.

He whirled back and forth, spitting curses, his sword was everywhere. A storm of a blade whirling around him. Spinning and dancing, everywhere at once.

It would have been kinder had his teeth been bared in a snarl. It would have been easier to understand if he had _looked_ angry.

Though he didn’t.

His face was completely impassive. An emotionless mask. His eyes almost hooded as if to hide the eldritch light that seemed to burn in them. Emma told herself that hateful red was a reflection from the fire but she wasn’t convinced.

Hook was a fucking demon.

Graham was _enjoying_ himself.

He caught Hook’s hurled overhand blow on the flat of one palm, deftly avoiding the keen edge of the blade. He hurled the pirate effortlessly back and threw back his head and laughed. A deep and rich sound. A mirthful sound. So light and carefree that it was truly disturbing amongst the carnage surrounding them.

“Emma, we have to go!” David was grabbing at her. “We have to get out of here!”

Something of the panic in his voice got through to Emma, snatched her out of her staring at the two monsters duelling on the deck.

“The cannon!” David was screaming, half dragging her and Archie both towards the gangplank. “There’s cannon. Gunpowder! There’s powder on this ship!”

Emma sucked in an alarmed breath and almost choked on it when Graham was suddenly _there_.

The vampire had turned his back on the pirate when he had realised others were in danger. He snatched Archie up by the belt of his pants and hurled him through the air. He grabbed Emma and David at the same time, spinning and throwing them both in one fluid move and Emma saw it just as he let them go. Just as he gathered himself to jump and follow.

Hook.

He loomed behind Graham, his eyes still burning lurid red.

Emma saw the hook swing down out of the smoke. She saw the blood bloom lurid over Graham’s shirt. She saw him bellow in pain and then arch his back in a silent cry of agony when the tip of Hook’s sword burst through his chest. Ichor splattered everywhere, Graham _roared_ , Emma tumbled over the side of the ship.

She hit the water hard, tumbling messily beneath the waves and was knocked even further down when a sudden thunder boomed throughout the water.

The fire had reached the powder stores.

The _Roger_ went up.

 

  ** _In the Aftermath…_**

****

“Everyone alive?” Emma gasped as she hauled Archie up onto the dock.

“Just about.” Archie panted, flopping onto his back. “Ow.”

“All in one piece at least.” David scrambled up onto the worn boardwalk alongside them, dripping everywhere and struggling a little under the weight of his sword.

“Jesus.” Emma flopped onto her back. “Who the fuck sets fire to a ship with gunpowder on it?”

“Told you he was dangerous.” Charming flopped down beside her, breathing heavily and taking a moment to try and clear the ringing from his ears.

“I thought you meant pointy-stabby dangerous.” Emma waved vaguely. “Not scorchy-boomy.”

“Where is he?” David staggered to his feet and looked into the water. “Did he make it off the ship?”

“I don’t see how. Not in one piece anyway.” Emma managed to sit up but there was no way she was making it to her feet any time soon.

“Christ, that stings!”

Emma may have screamed a little when a clawed hand clapped over the side of the warped boards of the dock and Graham clumsily hauled himself up onto the dock.

Water sluiced from him, blood pattering crimson black onto the boards as Graham staggered to his feet. Breathing hard through bared fangs.

“Oh, man, you got a…” Emma waved vaguely at Graham’s chest through which Hook’s sword was still stuck.

He shot her a narrow eyed look.

“And a…” Emma pointed to her shoulder where a scorched looking hook was buried in Graham’s shoulder. The charred remains of a leather harness hanging from it sans the rest of the pirate that had been attached to it.

Oh dear.

“You want me to…help?” Charming scrubbed salt water from his eyes and grimaced at the steel currently ventilating a very annoyed looking vampire.

“If ye don’t mind.” Graham winced his way fully upright and turned his back to Charming.

The Prince grasped the hilt of Hook’s sword, bracing his other hand against Graham’s back and grunted with the effort of hauling the blade free.

Graham growled but otherwise said nothing. He accepted the sword from Charming when it looked like David had no idea what else to do with it. He stood patiently still whilst Charming pulled Hook’s -well- hook out of Graham’s shoulder. Graham took that as well. He examined the hook back and forth and then pitched it into the water with a grunt.

He swung the sword a couple of times, his brows raising at the superior balance in the blade. Nearly an equal to his own but much lighter and a single handed weapon. He cleaned it on his ruined coat and then slid it through his belt alongside his own sword.

He seemed unaware of the sealing of the gaping bleeding holes in his chest and shoulder. Emma watched with a morbid fascination and was snapped out of it only when Archie spoke.

“That…was unexpected.” Archie sat up, rubbing at his chafed wrists. The salt water stung the abraded skin terribly.

“You’ve missed some stuff.” Emma rocked her head to the side, attempting to shake the water from her ears and feign nonchalance.

“Apparently. The sheriff was dead when I last checked.” Archie nodded with exaggeration.

“I’m the Sheriff.” Emma frowned.

“Of course.” Archie agreed too easily and Emma narrowed her eyes at him.

“You okay?” Charming asked Graham, resisting the terrible urge to poke the healing wound in Graham’s chest.

“Aye, looks worse than it is.” Graham plucked at his newly ventilated tee shirt and shrugged. It stung, certainly, but the metal hadn’t been silver and pain was relative.

“So you just killed a guy.” Emma wobbled to her feet and ignored the glare Charming threw her way. She hadn’t realised that _Don’t Irritate the Undead_ came with a facial expression but there it was.

“He killed me first!” Graham looked offended and waved at his seeping wounds which were very nearly closed already.

“Well, it obviously didn’t take!” Emma threw up her hands.

“A nasty habit, I know, but no need to worry about yer job security,” Graham waved her off, “Sheriff is beneath my paygrade.”

“And whore isn’t?” Emma shrugged her shoulders with exaggeration and ignored the way her father squeaked.

She had time to wonder if she had perhaps gone too far when Graham let out a leonine growl and his glimmering eyes narrowed dangerously.

Graham shoved her off the pier.

“Graham!” Charming huffed out a breath but it was mostly relief. The vampire could have easily killed Emma for the insult but seemed content to dole out humiliation instead.

Graham ignored Archie helping a sputtering Emma from the water again and turned to Charming.

“Can I borrow ten bucks?”

Charming blinked at him.

“I need to buy nut water.”

Charming opened his mouth, looking as confused as he no doubt felt and then decided that he’d rather not know.

“I can pay ye back when I’ve told the bank I’m not dead anymore.”

Charming handed over the money.

 

**_The Store…_ **

 

“You can’t come in here armed!”

“I’ll bet I fucking can.” Graham smiled brightly at the meeter greeter type and sailed straight past them with a soggy sweep of his coat.

This had been a long fucking day and he was not in the mood at all.

He left the man gaping in his wake and made a beeline for the chilled section. He stood there, looking for the damn coconut water again and grunted when he found it. He gathered up a couple of cartons.

How much did he need?

Graham frowned, looking between the two cartons and the rest that was on the chilled shelf. He listened to the drips pattering from his clothes onto the floor and hummed deep in his throat.

He had no idea what was wrong with Regina. He’d been under the impressions that illnesses wouldn’t affect either of them anymore. He’d thought them evolved somewhat beyond upset tummies but he supposed not. Was this something she was going to need to acclimate to her new diet, namely him?

Well, he was limited by his lordly budget of ten dollars after all.

Graham decided that he could afford three cartons and tucked them amongst his arms, turning to find the checkouts.

Werewolf.

Graham had time to register the scent before Ruby hit him like a damn freight train.

She blurred up the aisle, almost too fast for even him to see, and socked him square in the jaw with an uppercut that flashed his vision white and sent his heels kicking up over his head.

Graham was weightless for a suspended moment before he smacked down into the chiller unit, smashing through it, metal and all. It cracked beneath his increased density like glass and he smashed into the concrete covered linoleum beneath, a delightful mixture of milks and non dairy substitutes raining down on him.

Ruby loomed above him, her fist pulled back for another punch and her eyes alight with a lupine fury. Her teeth were bared despite her current lack of fangs and she wore ferocious a lot more genuinely than Emma had.

A snarl rumbled from deep within Ruby’s chest, a sound that was too big for her, and she stilled when she recognised him.

“Graham?!” She all but squeaked.

“Ow.” Graham decided and spat out a mouthful of heavy cream. He sat up, swiping milk from his face. He managed a smile. He didn’t dislike werewolves. “Hi, Ruby.”

“Oh my god, I thought I smelled a…are you _okay?!”_ Ruby stooped down and looped her arms under his, hauling him to his feet. Probably the only person in the whole damn town aside from Regina that could.

“I’m okay.” Graham flicked a cube of feta cheese from his shoulder with a sigh. “It’s just been that kind of day.”

“I mean, I’d heard but…wow, you’re really built under there.” Ruby’s hand rested on his chest with a flex of her fingers and she shook herself from it when he smirked. “No. No. Inappropriate.”

“I’ve had worse offers.” Graham snorted.

“Yeah -speaking of- where is she?” Ruby looked around, searching for Regina.

Something flexed in Graham at that and it must have shown on his face because Ruby snatched her hand away from his chest and curled her fingers into her palm, looking suddenly nervous. Graham worked to neutralise his expression but she took a step back so he took that to mean his efforts were in vain.

“She’s figuring out how to defeat her mother.” Graham couldn’t keep the growl from his tone. There was no way he was telling anyone that Regina was weakened.

“Cora’s really here?” Ruby swallowed hard and glanced around when she realised they were the centre of a crowd and -yes- she really had put Graham through a fridge unit.

“Yup.” Graham stalked across the aisle and bent to pick up one of the cartons of coconut water.

The other two were burst and pooling over the floor. The rest seemed have been smashed across his back in the fridge unit and judging by the muttering from the staff, he didn’t think one of them likely to go through the back to get more for him.

“How do you know? Have you seen her?”

“Nope. Archie has though. You can ask him.” Graham gave another check for any intact cartons of coconut water and scowled when he realised they’d all been trashed.

“Archie’s not dead?!” Ruby’s eyes were wide and she looked somehow…guilty?

“No. Regina didn’t kill him. What possible reason would she have to- -you know what, never mind.” Graham held up his hands and his last remaining coconut water. “I’m paying for this and then I’m going.”

“We, uh, don’t take money from the Evil Queen.” The store manager had appeared eventually and Graham turned to look at the little man, finding himself close to snapping.

“It’s Prince Charming’s money, actually.” Graham held up his hard won soggy ten dollar note. He flicked it in the man’s face with a wet slap and a yelp from the little weasel. “Ye can bill him for the fridge as well since his pet decided to put me through it.”

“Hey!” Ruby sounded more than a little offended as had been Graham’s precise intent.

“Aye, well learn tae fucking control yerself. Maybe use all yer damn senses instead of relying on those of a bunch of humans, hmm?” Graham snapped at her and spun away. He missed the stricken look on Ruby’s face. He was too busy shoving his way through the gathered crowd, more than done with people for the day.

The meeter greeter tried to stop him.

Graham threw him out the window.

 

**_The Manor…_ **

 

Regina hummed, surfacing from her sleep when something cool was pressed into her hands. She blinked blearily, recognising Graham’s silhouette looming over her.

“Coconut water.” He grunted at her.

Regina tipped towards him a little when the mattress dipped beneath his weight as he crawled into the bed beside her. She held the carton in her hands a little dumbly and relinquished it without a fight when he took it from her again.

Regina lay back, ignoring the pangs low in her gut, they had lessened greatly since she had last woken. It would seem even just napping as a vampire activated her regenerative powers greatly. The pain had been crippling that afternoon and was already much more manageable.

She heard the pop of a carton being opened and the gurgle of liquid pouring into a glass. The soft scent of coconut wafted over her and she tried to rally herself to take the glass from him.

She needn’t have bothered.

Graham helped her sit up a little and steered a straw into her mouth. Regina would have made a surprised expression if she’d had the energy but that would have to wait. She sipped from the coconut water, taking the glass from Graham when he murmured for her to do so. He lifted her a little higher in the bed to rest against a pile of pillows, letting her sip at her leisure.

Then he lay down beside her.

“Hmm?” She wasn’t up to word but him… _snuggled_ beside her could not go unremarked.

“I’ve decided it’s a good day to stay in bed.” Graham wriggled beneath her pile of furs and rested his head against her hip.

“You’re wet.” Regina petted his hair to double check her bleary eyesight and the cool feel of his curls against her skin.

“Showered.” Graham sighed and shut his eyes.

“You smell of…salt and smoke and… _cheese?_ ” Regina wrinkled her nose. A little disturbed that she could even differentiate between those scents.

“Long story.” Graham murmured, his voice lazy and his body relaxing.

Regina shrugged and set her now empty glass aside. She contemplated refilling it, she had felt much better for drinking it already but it seemed so terribly far away and she was still very tired.

She decided to let gravity to take over and slid down to lie on her back again. She found herself much closer to Graham than she had expected and he further surprised her by slinging an arm over her and drawing her closer to the warmth of his body.

Not that she was going to protest but it was unusual.

Regina felt her eyelids drooping again as sleep stalked her once more. She retreated from it as best she could but it was really just a matter of time.

“Anything happen I should know about?” She yawned cavernously.

“Everyone’s an arse.” Graham grumbled into her shoulder.

“In other news, the sky is blue.” Regina drawled.

Graham thought about telling her. That Hook was likely dead, that he had stolen a heart, that he had terrified Archie, outed Cora to the town at large, assaulted the Saviour (granted, she’d likely get a kick out of that) and been put through a fridge by a werewolf but…she was so peaceful now.

It was peaceful in their nest in the bed and after the day he’d had…peaceful was what he wanted.

He’d be surprised that he’d found peace sharing skin priveleges with Regina of all people.

Strife and surprise could wait until tomorrow.

For now, he was going to sleep.    

     


End file.
